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#do it for the vine y'all!
super-marvel-dc · 2 months
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Jason: *Recording while Y/N and Damian are arguing*
Y/N: HOLD UP, HOLD UP, HOLD UP, HOLD UP!! HER SISTER WAS A WITCH, RIGHT? AND WHAT WAS HER SISTER? A PRINCESS! THE WICKED WITCH OF THE EAST, BRO!
Dick: *Wheezes like a tea kettle*
Damian, pulling out a knife: I'm gonna stab them.
Y/N: YOU'RE GONNA LOOK AT ME AND YOU'RE GONNA TELL ME THAT I'M WRONG? AM I WRONG?
Damian: It's my favorite movi-
Y/N: SHE WORE A CROWN AND SHE CAME DOWN IN A BUBBLE, Damian!
Damian: I'm not fighting with you, I'm not fighting with y-
Y/N: GROW UP, BRO. GROW UP!
Tim: *Passed out on the couch though the whole interaction.*
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anxious-lee · 11 months
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😈
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at least one person said they’d like to see the designs, so here they are
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❤️🖤Bloody Heart Babe🖤❤️
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pohlepen · 9 months
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frankie & who????
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glambots · 1 year
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I have this mental image of Moon having a never ending supply of blankets in his pants pocket but they’re all tied together in a big chain of blankets
I could imagine this with them both, but with hankeys. A kid is crying, so Sun/Moon goes to offer them a hankey, but it's attached to another hankey, which is attached to another, and another, and another--and it just keeps going while they're faking complete incredulousness. Classic Tomfoolery. Gets 'em every time. (He has also done this to you. And yes, it also works on you.)
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mifithemuffin · 1 year
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what do you mean Sanada Sensei posts insta stories every day and no one is sharing them online😭😭😭 do i have to put another app into my daily rotation😭😭😭😭
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wastelandbabyblue · 2 years
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little update on my pumpkin head: gonna start painting today and hopefully won't mess that up. but here's some pics of it so far
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lightningfilledsaber · 11 months
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Gonna do a drawin stream again in an hour.... ish. I'll try to start around 2:30 (EST) anyway. Not sure if anyone here showed up last night since I spent most of it last night muted bc I was vibing with Mateo lmfao. but I saw a few people pop in which I really appreciated!! Gonna try to work on Riot's wings because they were lookin. interesting. last night lmfao
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meguwumibear · 8 months
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i wanna write for wolfwood so bad but my brains got nothing :(
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bedoballoons · 7 months
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Hello again it's the anon whom asked for a shinobu reader 🤭
I almost ran out of headcanons i luv so maybe our genshin hybrid bois with a hybrid!reader just like them
I mean a dog!reader for gorou or a fox!reader for nari, a dragon reader for zhongli n neuvillette(how do y'all spell his name) maybe a adepti!reader for xiao
etc
-💤 (being an new anon 😋)
Hiya!! Welcome to the anon squad (sorry this is a little late)!! I absolutely LOVE this idea!!! I've never written a hybrid reader before so this was super exciting, I hope you enjoy! Also I hope you don't mind but I included Lyney with a cat hybrid!
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─
{༻~Hybrid reader~༺}
CW: Fluffy and a little flirty, hybrid reader! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon chérie, Gorou: Honey, Neuvillette: Mon amour,
(Includes: Lyney, Gorou, Zhongli, Tighnari, Xiao, and Neuvillette!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Lyney:
Lyney tipped his hat to you, a small smirk playing on his lips when he held up one of his cards and magically turned it into a rainbow rose, holding it out for you to take, "You look gorgeous as ever mon chérie." You rolled your eyes playfully and accepted his gift, walking up close to him so your tail could run along underside of his chin, making him swoon like a lovesick puppy while your purred in his ear, "You look fairly handsome yourself magician boy~"
He sighed, unable to respond as a blush crawled onto his cheeks and his doe eyes stared at you almost blankly, you couldn't help but giggle at him, running your hand up his chest and leaning close to his face to whisper against his lips, "Whats the matter Lyney...cat got your tongue?"
𑁍༄Gorou:
You smiled happily at Gorou, your tail wagging with excitement as he walked up to you with a big grin and a handful of wildflowers, his eyes shining with love for you. "You're home! You spent way to much time in Inazuma city! Next time I'm coming with you!" You shouted to him, giving up waiting at the door and running to him full speed, his arms open for you to jump into. "I missed you too honey!" He laughed, holding you tightly as he spun you both around for a second and gave you one of his special kisses that made your heart race.
You pulled away to inspect him, grabbing his face gently to make sure there weren't any injuries anywhere while chuckled at your antics, "Honey I'm okay I promise!" He embraced you again, giving you soft butterfly kisses while your tails swayed in harmony...you had missed him so much.
𑁍༄Zhongli:
You'd cuddled into Zhonglis warmth, feeling his sharp nails gently graze your scalp while he ran his fingers through your hair, his tail wrapped around yours to the point they could actually get tangled, but you weren't worried...you could stay with him in that spot for thousands of years, in fact it sounded beautiful, "Zhongli, let's stay like this forever. We can enjoy eachothers presence and watch the sunrise...the sunset, never bothered by anyone, just you and me."
"Perhaps one day, for now I'm afraid I still have duties to uphold in Liyue...lantern rites to attend, stories to tell...this geo dragon has more to do before he can rest fully." You nodded, already knowing that would be his answer, still you could dream about that one day...the day the two of you would go to rest together in your special spot and never leave.
𑁍༄Tighnari:
Your ears twitched along with Tighnaris while the two of you treaded through the forest, the beautiful sounds of nature all around you and your senses on alert for any threats to the wildlife,...or from the wildlife. "Nari, why are we out here again? It seems a bit denser urrgh...then what we usually walk through, oh oww." You struggled to speak as you got tangled up in vines, a thorned one wrapped around your fluffy tail.
"I got word there was a new type of plant in the area with incredible medicinal properties, I had no idea it would be so overgrown though....how did you even do this?" He chuckled at the sight of you and carefully set you free, touching your tail softly to make sure there wasn't any long lasting injuries. "Nari, next walk we take a path."
𑁍༄Xiao:
You appeared next to Xiao, the moonlight almost illuminating him as he stared out across the sea, thinking about his feelings for you...what they meant, how they came to be...if they could continue. He'd never experienced something like this...especially with another adepti, one he admired so much, "Killing demons...comes easily to me. Taking care of monsters...dealing with my Karmic debt, I'm even beginning to understand humans but over two-thousand years and the idea of love...still confuses me. I don't...know how to be what I want to for you...what you want me to be."
You sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at the stars as a breeze brushed your cheek, "I don't want you to be anything but yourself Xiao..., the conqueror of demons, the one who sacrifice himself to save everyone else. Just be you and my love will never waver." Your words still didn't clear up all his confusion, but they calmed him enough to place a kiss on top of your head...ready to start a whole new journey with you.
𑁍༄Neuvillette:
You smiled up at the sky for a moment, taking out your umbrella as light rain started to fall and dark clouds rumbled with quiet thunder. A storm was brewing and you could only assume it was Neuvillettes doing...the old hydro dragon, what had got him feeling down this time?
You made your way through the crowds of people, all of them trying their best to not get wet while you splashed in puddles and embraced the beautiful weather, finishing your walk right in front of the Chief of justices door. You knocked a couple times, humming the lullaby about Neuvillette as you waited for him to answer. "Neuvillette, please let me in...from one dragon to another, we both know you need some comforting."
You didn't even get a chance to say hello as he pulled you into his office and hugged you tightly, gentle tears leaving wet spots on your shoulder while you sighed. "What happened?" You rubbed his back, the two of you feeling comfortable enough to let some of your dragon features show, like your tails that intertwined together and the star shaped pupils in your eyes that looked up at him will love. "So many things mon amour...thank you...for being here for me."
"There's no need to thank me, I will always be here when you need me."
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧
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sweetheartsaku · 26 days
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���HAIKYU!! various ; how deep is your love?
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a/n ; [gn!reader] kinda fem implied in kawa's and kuroo's 😓 do yall like the new layout?? c: suggestive if you squint extremely hard in kuroo's .. i honestly dont know if im writing this timeskip or pre timeskip its 3am 😣
— characters : oikawa, osamu, tsukishima, hinata, sakusa, kuroo
part 2 ! ♡ akaashi, kenma, kita, semi, kageyama, suna
jade vine !
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tooru oikawa ; SWEET / I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE - tyler the creator, brent faiyaz, fana huez
has 'i love you' wars and he MUST win or he will tackle you (affectionate)
takes the BEST candid photos of you and puts so much love into the following insta post. has you as his wallpaper too (please match with him) (he'd also have a highlight just w pics of you😞)
please NEVER do that 'wipe their kiss off' trend because he will actually not talk to you for DAYS and gets all sulky until you apologize. (he will get all cocky all over again)
core memory from his teamates. bae was explaining to his teamates about new volley nerd talk blablabla and they notice his nails painted in a faint pink (for a fun date night, thinking no one will notice)
issei BURSTS out laughing and instantly points it out. now seijoh4 NEVER lets him live it down
always the first person to notice when you use a new shampoo or perfume.
cuddling, (you being the little spoon╰(*´︶`*)╯♡) you can feel his breath hitch when his lips reach your neck
before you could ask why he's stopped inching closer he's already manages to whisper out, "did you start using a new shampoo?" yes. yes you have
do his skincare with him please ! he loves it. he loves when he places you on the bathroom counter and you wrap your legs around his waist, he loves when you're so gentle with the toner, he loves when you graze your delicate fingers over his beautiful long lashes, he loves when you make sure you don't cut him when snipping the face mask so it fits a little more snug, EVERYTHING. (he is sunoo coded)
osamu miya ; good looking - suki waterhouse
loves your tummy SO much. doesn't care about shape or form, he just likes the feeling that you're being fed. squish. or pat. he loves it. have i mentioned he loves your tummy?
when his dad leave the twins at home its always osamu at the stove, please keep atsumu in a 5 mile radius AWAY from the kitchen
SPOON FEEDS YOU. please i need him. on days you're too tired to move a muscle, days where you're too sick to open your eyes, be prepared to feel his hand on the back of your head and one below your chin ready to feed you!! once you've sat yourself up he feeds you so gently... osamu miya i need you
when you're really tired from work, he will send meals to your workplace. if you work at home and sees you barely able to keep an eye open, you will see his hand under a spoon of your favourite meal. he's not the best with it, but he's trying 🥹 he means it with all his heart and hearing you say the food is really warm in your stomach, his heart feels warm too (о´∀`о)
my mans is SNATCHED. slide your hands around his waist, poke it a little do WHATEVER. your hands have probably been on his waist more than his hands on yours.
i think his core is pretty well built. have we seen it in the anime or manga? maybe. but from what i've seen, his physique is very 😳 (a tad bit better than his brother's i fear)
cooking together!!! different recipes each date, basking in each other's presence. its always so fun and the results are always almost flawless!
at one-point y'all were making cupcakes, it was literally osamu baking them and you decorated it.
AND OBVIOUSLY the basic, he would routinely give you handmade onigiri, in different shapes, flavours and whatever you like ✨
kei tsukishima ; the only exception - paramore
kinda scowls at you when you put your hands under his shirt but secretly really loves it so when you slither your hands away he instantly places your hands back and make sure your hands STAY there. bonus points if you have warm body temperature. he likes the feeling of your warm hands on his slightly colder body.
his wardrobe has drastically evolved from muted tones to slightly lighter and vibrant clothing ever since you insisted on getting matching stuff!!
WILL say he is not a jewellery person but collects, keeps and takes care of all the little trinkets you give him DAILY. he has a little sticker on the edge of one of his books and a little moon sticker on the end piece of his sports glasses
he also defineitely has really thick curly blond lashes. you say they are one of his charming points but he gets all flustered. when you insist to put clear mascara on them, he doesn't really look like he has a problem with it 🥹
what could his ahh possibly be listening to with those headphones on so often (real)
sends you playlists at an insane hour that go for insane amounts of time. but i KNOW his taste is immaculate. every song always gives you goosebumps or makes your heart tighten
please do a spotify blend with him (he was gonna ask you, but you beat him to it)(he was shy)
oh AND the shared playlists actually are insane!! so much good music all at once?? crazy yall 😭😭 (wave to earth, cody fry, the smiths, daniel caesar, rex orange county)
shoyo hinata ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande
honestly, out of all these men HINATA SHOYO is the BEST candidate for taking care of a person except himself. has no limits in his stamina, and will only listen to you when you ask him maybe its time for a break. does he overwork? not necessarily. does he work too hard? yes, in a positive way. please remind him to eat because he will forget sometimes
he will NEVER admit he likes being the little spoon LMAO he finds being vunerable in your arms a tad bit silly, and it bugs him. after a long week of practice games and insisting kageyama and yachi to practice with him the instant he falls on the bed, he finds himself melting into your touch. your voice gets a little more buttery and he loves it, falling asleep instantly
hes probably a hard sleeper too 😭 he wont wake up till he feels your cold hands on his face or the sunbeams from the curtain literally bleed into the sheets and steal its colour
PLEASE STROKE HIS HAIR. he loves it. he absolutely loves it. again, melts into your touch like ice-cream. his heart will feel tight and he has a lil' blush 🥹 whats even more priceless is his lips slightly agape after hes fallen asleep... how can you NOT love this man
one of the only boys on this list who will LET you put little pink bows or style his hair in braids and clips. (if you're imagining timeskip hinata, you have attempted to put a little bow around his bicep but you underestimated its size and it BROKE. gosh what an experience)
DANCES WITH YOU EVERYWHERE!!! omg i love him so much. doesn't care if you have two left feet, he just loves the feeling in his heart when he sees your smile as he spins you around. in the rain, in big empty rooms, in the kitchen, anywhere.
loves the idea of promise rings or little trinkets that ensure he gets to have you forever!!
kiyoomi sakusa ; washing machine - VANISHING GIRL, rosemary fairweather
PLEASE braid this man's hair. 😞 he pretends to despise it and thinks you don't notice when he literally melts under your touch. he feels safe 'nd comfy and hopes it lasts forever, when your hand retracts he has a lil' pout
notices when you've been wearing your favourite hood for a couple days straight, has a little scowl under his mask and throws one of his jackets at you. he only gives you the wind-breakers that are 100% cotton or the ones he just knows you like.
he uses this as an excuse to share his clothes with you. its safe to assume its his love language under-cover!
HE IS SO ASS WITH PDA all you get is him giving you hand sanitizer before eating meals or snacks. its only you though, don't tell him that.
BUT sometimes when he feels like it, he will take your hand and put it HIS pocket so "your hands are always sheltered from germs" now what type of bs is THAT. (you love this bs)
can be snarky. sometimes he gets the slightest eenie meenie miniest bit cocky, and its very noticable. has the ability to be a little bit of a tease but not in a pestering way more like a little smartass way LMAO.
tetsuro kuroo ; never lose me - flo milli
always has his hand in the back pocket of your pants. that was it. thank you for coming to my ted talk. (to feel your butt? no idea.)
tutor sessions always unbearable. either you're too busy staring at his biceps, or you're sighing that he's made a little pop quiz for you!! tell him it sucks please
if he notices it gets a bit too much or overwhelming for you over the week or before study dates, insists to take you out instead (what a gentleman!! kuroo tetsuro come into my life)
extremely consistent with routine. good morning and good night text DAILY no matter how busy he is, he WILL find a way (i like to think its his way or the high way #kingofprovocation /hj). very good at getting the things he wants in a non-manipulative way but with simply logic and brains
yeah as captain hes no. #1 but he is also no. #1 waist CLUTCHER. his hands are always on you somehow even in the slightest way, but never pervy. he just likes having his hands on you! bonus points if you have hip dips, he loves it so much. he finds it as a perfect spot to place his hands on (btw ppl w hipdips yall are BEAUTIFUL!! 🥹)
i feel as he has a possessive side as well. small, but more noticable compared to someone else. will not hesitate to stare someone (or recite chemistry nerd stuff 🙁) down for looking at you a little too long :3
when he sees you post or sees himself in your instagram or tiktok dumps, his heart tightens a bit in the best way possible. when you mention him in the post he only reacts with a heart but he's actually going insane
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ghost-proofbaby · 11 months
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR SEVENTEEN
in which you watch a movie about dragons with eddie, but there's something deeper beneath the surface to battle. to train. to tame.
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 3.7k+
→ a/n: omg they still haven't slept they're just like me fr <3 thank you for all the kindness and endless patience you have all had with this story, and for sticking around for the ride. deftones scene that has haunted me for months now will be next hour! and the return of the gc! see y'all next week (maybe)
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
◁ previous part, next part▷
17:00 ─────────ㅇ───── 24:00
HOUR SEVENTEEN - 8:00 AM
“Are you crying right now?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Oh my God, you are.”
“I’m not.”
“Eddie, those are goddamn tears on your cheeks-”
“Oh, fuck off!” 
The credits for How To Train Your Dragon roll as background noise to your bickering. 
“It’s okay to admit that you were, y’know,” you coo as you lean across the spanse of both your laps, moving to pinch at his cheek as he leans back and moves it further out of your reach, “It’s a very moving ending.” 
You’d situated yourself at one end of the couch when you two returned inside, while Eddie had seated himself on the opposite end. Initially, you’d been disappointed, worried about that sudden distance. But the distance disappeared rather quickly as Eddie had fully turned his body, back against the armrest and legs spread out of that empty space, and encouraged you to do the same. A messy entanglement of knees and ankles and calves all pressed together, touching at every interval possible. Anywhere your leg could manage to graze his, it was. A plethora of gentle and minuscule touches, all adding up to something bigger – something that still grows in your chest amongst the vines and beneath his waves.
It was the very thing that made this easy. It wasn’t awkward, neither of you seemed uncomfortable given that the last time you’d used this couch, it had been in very delicate and very different circumstances. 
It was all part of being his friend. You were Eddie’s friend. 
“Don’t be so condescending,” Eddie’s scowl is adorable, tugging on every infantile bloom gathered on the greenery in your chest. 
Boundaries. Your lungs and your vines and your bones had found respectable boundaries amongst themselves, and it was finally easier to breathe around Eddie again.
“I’m not!” you shift your legs, sliding your bare skin against that of his flannel pajamas. He’s quick to wrap a hand around your ankle, thumb pressing into the hard bone as if he’s scared you’re about to run from him again. You’re not; you’re not sure how to convince him, but you can’t imagine there’s anything he could tell you now to send you running once more, “I liked the movie, Eddie. It was… it was really good.” 
You’re a terrible liar. You can’t remember half the movie. All you can remember is the way Eddie would animatedly add commentary for you, how there had been a point in the movie the two of you paused for nearly fifteen minutes for him to go on a ramble of his explanation as to why he’d named his bike Nightfury (as if it hadn’t been obvious from the way his face lit up the moment Toothless appeared on screen). All you can remember is how you only wished the movie would never end, so the look on his face would never fade. 
“Tell me your favorite scene,” he demands with a knowing smirk. He knows you didn’t pay attention. 
“You know…” you pause, racking your brain for a single scene to mention, “The… one…”
“Go on,” he scoots his heels back towards him, elevating his knees so he can prop his elbows up on them and cradle his face mockingly, acting completely enthralled by whatever your answer may be, “The one…?” 
You panic, blurting out, “The one with the dragon.” 
You miss the pressure of his thumb on your bones. A physical reminder of his grip on you, not just all mumbled metaphorical ones that now reside in you.
“Half the movie was scenes with a dragon.” 
“The one where he’s training the dragon.” 
That earns a cackle from him. One that pulls from his chest, sends him leaning back from his sarcastic pose and makes him squint his eyes until crinkles appear beside them. You almost consider counting each laugh line, but just as quickly as they appeared, they disappeared. 
“Awesome,” he breathes out, stretching his legs out, bumping them back against yours once more, “So specific. You should really be a professional movie critic, you know that?” 
“Oh, yeah,” you nod giddily, “Feast your eyes, pretty boy. The next Robert Ebert in the making.”
He’s red. Terribly, terribly red. It’s not a surprise he fights fire with fire as he replies, “Sweetheart, respectfully… who the fuck is Robert Ebert?” 
It’s your turn for your cheeks to burn. You’re unsure if he catches it, the flash of sudden shyness at that nickname now. It once sent rage burning down your throat, but you now revel in it. You’d burn for it. 
“You’re killing me here, handsome,” that does the trick – a small squeak sounds off from deep within his throat, and he tries to cover it with a cough, “He was a famous movie critic. My newest role model.”
You expect him to go on with the bit, to force your hand and make you expand on it. Your mind is already reeling with ways to insert more innuendos, more nicknames, more ways to drive him as insane as you already had become thanks to him. It was only fair that you return the favor. 
He doesn’t. 
He’s like a schoolboy, fidgeting beneath your attention. You swear you feel a tremor in his legs that are tangled with yours properly again, and when he grabs your ankle, when he gives it another squeeze and he lays his thumb into that bone again as if he might find a divot specifically worn out just for him, you realize he’s not going to go along with the bit. Your innocent nickname has left him defenseless. Flustered, vibrant pink and crimson red from the bridge of his nose to the tops of his ears. 
Oh, this is fun. 
You move the foot he’s not holding onto for dear life, shifting it too quick for him to stop you before you sharply prod his exposed stomach with your toes, “Earth to Eddie?” 
He jumps at the contact. It happens so fast, you almost can’t keep track of him with your eyes as he’s sporadically jumping up off of the couch, away from your foot and legs and you. 
Oh, that’s not fun. 
“We should watch another movie,” No, we really shouldn’t. “How’s Scream sound?” 
He doesn’t even let you answer him, already rushing towards the entertainment center and dropping into a crouch before the shelves holding some of his movies. His hand moves to his knee, the hand that had once held to your bone, the one that burned a lingering touch into it, and you watch as his fingers start to tap along to a silent beat. 
A clear sign of anxiety. Even if you hadn’t come to observe Eddie and learn his ins and outs over the last seventeen hours, you’d know he’s on edge. 
“What are you doing?” you baldly ask him, in no mood to beat around the bush. 
He’s on edge. All you did was call him handsome, and he’s on fucking edge. 
“What do you mean?” he asks over his shoulder, not even so much as looking at you as his fingers trail along the spines of titles, occupying himself with finding a movie you still hadn’t agreed to. 
You sit up on your knees, kneeling on the cushions. It almost reminds you of when your knees had last pressed into this couch, “I mean, why the fuck did you get up like that?” 
“Like what?”
It’s funny, how easily your previously warm contentment can start to fan into flames of agitation.
“Oh, Jesus-” you cut yourself off, standing just abruptly as he had. You walk with purpose towards him, and he finally turns his face to look at you, “What did I do? Did I cross a line?” 
His brows furrow, “What?”
You wave your hand towards the couch, finally stopping off beside him, cocking a hip to accommodate your other hand that rests on it, “The way you just- we were just sitting there and talking and you just-” 
You just completely pulled away from me. Physically, yes, but I’m terrified it also be emotionally. You pulled away, and it feels an awful like you’re running away. 
All the words you can’t say – all the words you don’t know how to say. 
“You jumped up like I said something wrong,” you quietly finish the thought only half truthfully. It’s better than nothing. It still offers a sliver of honesty. 
“You didn’t say anything wrong,” he remains crouched, looking up at you with big and wide eyes, face smoothing into shock, “I just… I want to watch another movie.”
“I thought we were past that.”
“Past what?”
“Lying.”
His blush lingers and so does the tapping of his fingers, “Why do you think I’m lying? I’m being serious – you didn’t do anything wrong! I just… You said you haven’t seen Scream, and mentioned something about killing, so I thought-” 
“And if I don’t want to watch another movie?” you drop to your knees beside him, and he physically retracts, “See! Jesus Christ, Eddie, be honest with me right now or so help me God-”
“I have been plenty honest tonight, thank you very much,” he scowls immediately. You scoot closer to him on your knees, and this time, he isn’t flinching away, “You didn’t do anything wrong, alright? I… It’s me. My problem, I’ll deal with it. Please just… let me deal with it, okay?” 
“Deal with what-”
It’s your fault, really. You scoot even closer on your knees, you’re ignoring the carpet burn sure to remain, when your balance fails you. One moment, you feel as though you have the upper ground with him and this entire argument, and the next you’re falling forward. 
You’re falling forward, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to earnestly attempt to stop your collision with his floor. Attempt being the key word. 
It happens slow enough that both of you should have been able to stop it, in retrospect. Because Eddie is successful in catching your elbow, pausing the fall momentarily before he loses his own balance. He falls onto his ass and out of his crouch with a soft oomph, eyes widening comically before he’s collapsing backwards and dragging you with him. Your body drapes over him, cheek pressing into his bare chest, and neither of you move for a second. 
A familiar position. From the first few hours, when Eddie had tried to wrestle his damn porn magazine from you. That warm weight that once rested between your hips now digging into him, ribcages once more pressing together with erratic heartbeats pounding against each other through walls of flesh. 
You don’t move at first, keeping your face smashed into his chest. The perfect role reversal. At least his face isn’t in your boobs this time.
“I…” Oh, it’s painful to hold in your laughter, words choking up as your mouth quivers in the force of fighting a shit-eating grin, “I-I’m sorry.” 
He’s quick to recognize your amusement, “Don’t you dare laugh.”
“I’m not going to!”
“Yes, you are!”
“No, I’m not!”
“Bullshit,” he shifts beneath you, sitting up and bringing you back up with him. His arms are loose around your waist as you slide off of him and sit onto the floor beside him, “Who’s the liar now?” 
Another twitch of your lips, another glare shot your way, “I’m…” He raises his eyebrow in a dare, “Okay, yeah, I was going to laugh.” 
“Fuckin’ knew it.” 
He’s still wrapped around you, even as you sit side by side. Awkward angles and all, he’s clinging to you just as he did on the couch. As if he always needs to be touching you now, as if that line being crossed has made him open his eyes to a million realizations and opportunities. 
When he’s not running away, of course. 
You want to bring it up, reiterate that you’d like to know what exactly Eddie was ‘dealing with’ as he so eloquently put it. But you can’t, especially not when his thumb finds your soft skin beneath his shirt and strokes it thoughtlessly. An instinct. You wonder if he’s even conscious of it, if he even knows the effect it’s having on you. 
Can he hear your heart when he’s this close? Can he hear it’s thunder that shakes your very foundations? 
“I was serious,” you finally speak up, realizing you two have spent far too long sitting on his living room floor and just looking into each other’s eyes. If past you knew you ended up in this position, she would have been disgusted, not fawning. “I don’t feel like another movie.”
“Even Scream?” 
“Even Scream.” 
It’s a hard sentiment to force out, because the idea of getting to sit through another few hours of watching Eddie glow with excitement, to watch his expressions as he tumbles over words of adornment for something he loves and is passionate about, is tempting. But you’re pretty sure if you end up on that couch again, his thumb stroking your ankle as he attempts to keep your attention tethered to a motion picture you could never follow along with sincerely, you’ll just fall asleep. 
Sleep deprivation is a bitch. 
“What do you want to do instead?” he asks you. He makes no move to stand; you don’t either. 
Your eye trails over the entertainment center to avoid his stare, when something catches your eye on the shelf above the movies, “You never did tell me who Deftones are.”
Eddie glances at the shelf of CDs that caught your eye, “You… want to listen to Deftones right now, rather than watch Scream?” 
“Yes. I want you to rock my world with Deftones right now rather than watch Scream.”
“What about sleep?”
“What about it?”
“Do you not want to rest? They never said we couldn’t. Actually, right now, they’re assuming we are.”
Amongst the quick back and forth, you have to bite your tongue. You want to scream, no. No, I don’t want to sleep, because if I sleep, I’m missing this. I may never get this again; I can’t risk this. 
You shrug, and stand as his arms fall from around you. You miss that weight – you always miss the fucking weight of him. Just like a child with their favorite stuffed animal or blanket, you’re growing too attached too quickly. It’s going to be your downfall. It’s going to be your goddamn reckoning once these hours have slipped away.
Even more reason to not sleep. Even more reason to cling to your time with him. 
“No rest for the wicked, am I right?” you force a careless grin and hold out a hand. You silently plead for him to take it, to give you this win just once. 
He stares at your hand, then at you, then back to your hand. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that, right?” 
“Yeah,” you sigh out unintentionally when he hesitantly starts to reach out for your hand, grasping his palm to yours. A sudden burst of confidence overrides your system as you say, “But for these final seven hours, I’m your idiot.”
His grip turns steady and firm. A wicked grin crosses his face to match your own. 
“That you are, sweetheart. That you are.”
As it turns out, Eddie’s radio is broken. He tries to explain what happened, animatedly waving around his hands as he pulls all of the Deftones albums he owns and tries to give you the backstory to the night he broke the poor thing, but you just grab your phone and wave it in front of him instead. 
“I’m about to change your life and single handedly convince you to get a smartphone, Munson,” you tease as he takes a seat on the couch beside you. 
You’re sat criss-cross, bare knee bumping his thigh as you open your Spotify app. 
“I do know what Spotify is,” he grumbles, “I’m not completely lost on the times.”
“You still use physical copies of porn. Excuse me for assuming you don’t know what Spotify is.”
That shuts him up with ease. 
He’s completely silent, almost unnoticeable if it weren’t for the warmth radiating off of him and the bounce of his knee beside you. His eyes are watchful, though, as you search up this mysterious band and click on their music profile. 
Just as you open your mouth to ask which song you should play, thumb already hovering over their top song of Change (In The House of Flies), he sticks out his open palm. 
“What?” you question, looking up from where you’d been focused on the tiny screen. 
He wiggles his fingers. 
You know that he’s asking for you to hand over the phone, but you still recall the thrill from teasing him earlier. The rush you got from flustering him, from getting under his skin. 
Maybe you don’t have to shower him with abundant flirtatious nicknames to do that. Maybe, you can pull back an inch or so, lay off the compliments, figure out a new way to get under his skin in a way that makes you both smile until your cheeks burn, laugh until your stomachs ache. 
Instead of giving him the phone, you send your hand out to his and smack it. A punitive attempt at a high five with the angle given. 
“Wha-” he starts, staring at his palm you’d just smacked in gentle astonishment, “I wasn’t asking for a high five.” 
“No?” you bite down on your inner cheek, reeling back in your smile as he wiggles his fingers again, inching his hand closer to the phone. 
This time, instead of slapping at his hand, you smack your hand down into his and lace your fingers together. 
A giggle escapes you as he tries to shake your hand from his, and even as he tries to grimace, you catch the smile he’s fighting. 
“Sweetheart,” he chastises, “Give me the phone so I can show you the damn band.” 
“Ask nicely.” 
He gets his hand free from yours and tilts his head in your direction, raising an eyebrow. You only raise your own brow in return.
“Stop being a brat and give me the phone, please,” he repeats himself in a nearly condescending tone. 
You’re managing it. Aching cheeks, soon-to-be aching stomachs, as you crawl beneath his skin. “Make me.” 
Two simple words are all it takes to finally burrow into him. Literally. You nearly drop your phone when he’s quickly shifting positions, hand no longer be held out for the device as he suddenly dives it into your sides. Your body instinctively curls up protectively, and his forearm is caught against your torso as he begins to do exactly what you had enticed from him. He’s making you.
The asshole is tickling you.
“Eddie!” you screech, no care for how thin the walls of his apartment might be, “Ed-Eddie, stop!”
He’s cackling now between your gasping laughs. Your phone does take a tumble, dropping to both your feet as his second hand joins the torture. You can’t follow the path of his fingertips up and down your sides, only continuing to yelp out as your eyes tear up and you try to fight back. He props himself with a knee on the couch, other leg stretched to the floor as he cowers you into the cushion and your sides begin to ache. 
“Stop it! Stop it!” 
If you really wanted him to stop, you probably could manage to kick him off of you. One slip of a knee or thigh with intention towards his groin, and you’re sure it would send him flying. But you don’t. You let his body cover yours as your forehead bumps against his shoulder, you let him curl back into you and entrap you so willingly. You let that overwhelming scent of boy take you over. 
You let his waves drag you under. You don’t even have to take a breath before it happens; his essence is enough to keep your lungs from collapsing. 
“Stop?” he laughs, fingers momentarily slowing but not quite stopping, “Have I made you yet, baby?”
Your laughs die silently. All the air finally leaves your lungs, and you officially can only breathe in him. 
Baby. 
He senses the change in you immediately. The tickling stops, and he’s leaning back, shoulder leaving your forehead feverish. That’s what it was, it couldn’t possibly be the warmth that glows in your chest from that nickname. 
Baby. 
You get it. Oh, God, you get it. His quick escape when you’d called him handsome. You’d forgotten that this game of getting beneath his skin and bantering with light teasing goes both ways. You’d forgotten he has as much power over you now as you did him. 
Wide, brown eyes meet yours. He’s close enough to kiss. One impulsively lurch forward, and your lips would be back on his. His tongue in your mouth, his hands on your hips, his own hips settled between your thighs – all of this is so, so palpable. And all it would take is one movement. 
You hesitate. And he moves, lurching the wrong way. You almost call out, wait. Come back. 
Baby. 
An echo you can’t grasp onto quickly enough, and it leaves right along with the weight of him. 
He leans down and grabs your phone that had fallen, and sits back down beside you as he clears his throat, “Anyways. Um, where were we?” 
You kissing me. Me kissing you. Us, kissing, here on this couch. 
“Deftones?” you manage to whisper out questioningly instead. You swallow down that desire, a fiery weapon you should probably tamper down anyways. 
“Right. Deftones.” 
He opens your phone, putting in the code you quietly hand over to him without any hesitation. It was all wasted on that brief look, that moment where you nearly had him back in your grasps and he only slipped away again. 
You don’t even care as he deliberates which song to show you first. You think there’s a notification from Steve, a text message in the groupchat, but it’s lost on you. 
Baby. 
You like the way it sounds, you like the way it fits. You wonder how steep of a price you’d have to pay to hear him say it again. 
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1800-fight-me · 6 months
Text
Dark Devotion
Vampire!Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader
Rating: E (Explicit) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Warnings: Once again, gothic horror romance vibes. The monster gets the girl. Fear, horror, and explicit PiV sex. Slightly non-con as Aemond compels reader, but reader definitely consents (you'll understand when you read it).
Word count: About 5.2k
Synopsis: Running from your old life somehow leads you directly into the arms of a monster, one that shows you pleasures you never could've dreamed of.
Author’s note: I know I have been completely MIA and inconsistent but tbh my life has been incredibly stresseful and I lost all motivation to write for a while. This is the first thing I've written in months that I am genuinely proud of. I even made a whole ass moodboard for it! I truly hope y'all enjoy. Happy Halloween! P.S. Comments will make my entire day and earn you a kiss on the forehead!
I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!
Aemond Masterlist
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There was a phrase you heard quite a few times in your village as a little girl, ‘the night is dark and full of terrors’. Your mum would always roll her eyes and mumble something about ‘religious fanatics’. You were always inclined to agree with her, that is until this night. 
This night truly was dark and full of terrors. 
Thunder cracked loud enough that your ears rang as rain poured something awful. The harsh droplets pelted at your skin and the sky split in half as a lightning bolt landed merely a stone’s throw before you. 
Your horse neighed in panic loud enough that you could hear him over the bellowing wind as he reared back on his hind legs, causing you to slip and fall off and land directly on your backside in the mud. 
You gasped in shock and did not even have time to call out before your horse bolted away, leaving you drenched and muddy on the forest floor. 
Instead of crying you merely turned your head up towards the sky, embraced the pain of the harsh rain against your cheeks, and screamed at the heavens in frustration. 
You managed to pull yourself up before the mud sucked you in below the surface of the world, adjusted the hood of your cloak once again over your head, and trudged forward. 
Your boots sloshed through the dampened forest floor and you thought that perhaps the naysayers in your village were right. Maybe the gods were punishing you for your promiscuity. 
When you laid with the soldier passing through your village and allowed him to take your maidenhood, you were convinced there would be no consequences. 
You were no one, nothing, and not having your maidenhood intact changed nothing other than the subject the gossipers in town clucked about. 
It seemed it also changed the gods’ vengeance towards you. 
This night was dark and full of terrors, that much you could sense as fear shot down your spine. 
You increased your pace, fearing the creatures that could be lurking in the woods, desperate for some sort of shelter. The feeling of eyes watching you from time to time during your journey became steady and unceasing. You felt uneasy, the hair on the back of your neck stood straight up, and you knew it had nothing to do with the cold in the air. 
Eventually you had no other choice but to ignore the feeling, having looked behind and around you dozens of times in search of your stalker to no avail.
You trudged along for what felt like hours, not once finding anything that could serve as a temporary shelter. That was, until you somehow stumbled upon a near debilitated castle. 
As it came into view, you shuddered at the feeling the crumbling building invoked in you, but any shelter was better than none at this point. 
Stone walls with vines nearly overtaking them towered over you as you rushed forward towards the large wooden doors. You looked up and thought you saw a pair of gemstone blue eyes glowing in the dark from a window at the top of the tower, but you blinked and they were gone. 
You shook your head, sure your tired eyes were playing tricks on you, and reached for the handle of the door. 
You took a shuddering breath and pulled the heavy door open. Shock filled your very being as you were overcome with warmth and light. 
While the outside of the building was shabby, the inside was magnificent. It was well kept and well lit. A home fit for a king, with a grand staircase was directly in front of you and an elderly man in a servant’s outfit was walking down it.
“Young lady! Who are you and how dare you come into this home uninvited?” the man chided as he descended the last of the steps and stood before you. 
“I-I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t know anyone lived here, I was merely searching for shelter from the awful storm,” you said, eyes wide- portraying how stunned you felt. 
The man’s stern facade crumbled and he smiled warmly at you, you let go of your held breath and managed a small smile back at him. 
“Ah, yes, I tend to forget the master’s illusion on the outside of the building. He does it to keep the unwanted away,” he said. 
“Illusion? Like magic?” you asked. 
“Well, yes, of course. Come in, let’s get you out of the cold. You must be miserable,” the man said as he ushered you inside and closed the door behind you. 
“Alfred,” you heard the voice of a man call out from another room. His voice caused a shiver to go down your spine. 
“Yes, sire,” Alfred, the man before you replied, and the man with the shiver-inducing voice came into view as he rounded the corner and came into the entryway where you stood. 
Your breath caught once again as you saw the most striking and beautiful man you’d ever seen in your life. 
He was tall, nearly impossibly so, with long silver hair that fell nearly to his waist. He moved with the grace and control of a lethal killer. His facial features were sharp, as if he was cut from marble. His skin of pale white only emphasized his most distinct feature, an eye of sapphire that covered part of a scar that cut across his forehead and cheek. His remaining true eye was also a distinct blue color, nearly matching the sapphire one perfectly.  
Ethereal was the word that arose in your mind as he strode towards you, amusement twinkling in his eye as he took you in. 
“And who might you be, lovely?” he asked. 
After entirely too long of a pause, in which his amusement appeared to only grow as his beautiful lips curved into a smirk, you managed to stutter out your name. 
He repeated it back to you, leaning closer towards you, and your heartbeat sped into a gallop. He titled his head, almost as if he could hear it. You dismissed the thought, deeming it absurd. 
“My name is Aemond. Welcome to my home. Tell me, how exactly did you manage to find your way here?” he asked curiously. 
You leaned in closer with him, not realizing that your face was merely inches from his at this point, utterly drawn in and intoxicated by his presence. 
You were filled with a desire to please him and as a result you began rambling. “I was attempting to move away from my village. Take off and find a new life, but then there was a series of unfortunate events including running for my life, becoming irretrievably lost, and then becoming something I’m certain looks similar to a drowned rat after my horse was startled by the storm and I stumbled around for hours attempting to find shelter.” 
“Oh you poor sweet thing. Let us take care of you,” he purred and rather than set you at ease, something in the words made you feel as if your misadventures were far from over. And yet, you were entranced by his gaze and could not so much as force yourself to look away or take a step back. 
His smile grew wider as you nodded meekly. 
Finally, Aemond released you from his gaze as he turned to Alfred and asked him to fetch the maid Portia to assist you in cleaning yourself up. 
Before you knew it, you were being ushered up the stairs and into a room you could only assume was a guest room by an elderly woman with a sweet round face. 
She helped you to remove your muddy sodden clothes and you groaned in relief as you slid into a warm bath. You smiled warmly at her as you scrubbed your body and she cleaned your hair, all the while chattering to you about her love for her husband Alfred and their happiness working for Master Aemond. 
“Can you tell me about him?” you asked curiously as she helped you to dress. 
The dress she helped you into was of crushed velvet, sapphire blue like the gemstone in Aemond’s eye that had so caught your attention. The dress had a corset and plunging neckline that emphasized your curves. 
Portia hummed as she led you to sit down and began working on your hair. 
“He is a bit odd, yes. Intimidating and perhaps even scary to some, but he has a good heart. And is loyal and protective to those he cares for. He has treated my husband and I very kindly,” she said with a caring smile. 
Her words put your heart more at ease, still slightly worried about the new surprising circumstances you had found yourself in. 
“Does he typically extend that same kindness to visitors?” you asked, nervousness coloring your tone a bit. 
“It depends on the intentions of the visitor. A sweet thing like you? You’ll be well taken care of,” she said. 
“Does he often have ill-intentioned visitors?” you asked curiously. 
“It does happen from time to time, those in the nearest village hold hate for him in their hearts. Old prejudices I suppose, but no matter!” she said, changing the subject and her tone as she turned you around to view yourself in the floor length mirror. 
“Take a look at yourself, my dear. You look stunning, see? All the horror of the day washed completely away,” she said soothingly as she ran her hands up and down your upper arms. 
Your breath caught in your throat as you saw yourself. She was right, you’d never seen yourself look so beautiful before. You actually looked fit to reside in such a lovely home, unlike before, unlike any other time in your life. You’d never worn such a beautiful and expensive dress. You ran your hands across the soft fabric, up your torso and thought that it was the perfect inviting dress for someone else to touch you in. 
Images flashed in your head of the soldier you allowed to touch you, never while you wore something so pretty, but pleasurable nonetheless. Romps in the hay, literally as the two of you would often meet in your father’s barn and he taught you the art of a pleasure you’d never known before. 
You were not disillusioned about it, you knew there was no love between the two of you. You knew he would one day have to move on without you, but when he left town just as others found out about your affair, you were frustrated at being left alone with the consequences of a choice the both of you made. 
The townspeople, the people you grew up with, turned on you and called you a whore. Even your own father fell victim to their hateful whispers about you and kicked you out of his home. Only your mother helped you, sneaking you out in the dead of night and gifting you her horse to aid you on your journey into another life. 
You shook your head slightly in an attempt to clear those thoughts, the memories of both pleasure and pain, and smiled at your reflection. 
“Thank you, Portia, your efforts are greatly appreciated,” you said as you turned and embraced her in a warm hug. 
She squeezed you before releasing you and leading you out of the guest room and back down the grand staircase. 
You followed her into an elegant dining room, a fireplace lit - the fire crackling and warming the spacious room. The table was large enough to seat ten people, but only two place settings were set next to one another, somehow creating an intimate dinner even in such a large room. 
Aemond sat at the end of the table, and stood as he saw you. 
“Good evening, you look magnificent,” he said, voice as velvety as your dress. 
You did your best to hide how his words flustered you as you smiled softly and curtseyed. 
“Thank you, sire. But, this is too much. I did not mean to interrupt your your evening so and I-I’ll never be able to repay you-” 
He reached a hand out and you placed your hand in his. At the brush of your skin against his, your words fell off. 
His hands were cold, and yet- the mere brush of his fingers against yours filled your body with heat. 
“There is no repayment necessary, the pleasure of your company will be more than enough if you would please dine with me,” he said. 
“Of course,” you breathed out as you allowed him to guide you to your seat. 
Your nose was filled with the aroma of a hearty stew in a bowl before you and your stomach growled in anticipation. 
You gave Aemond a sheepish look even as he chuckled. 
“Eat, of course. You must be near ravenous. I’m familiar with the feeling,” he said, and his voice dipped lower. His eyes appeared to flash at his words, causing your heartbeat to jump, but you were far too hungry to think about it and played it off as a trick of the light, a reflection of the fire in his gemstone eye. 
You tucked in and struggled to hold in your groan of satisfaction at the taste of the soup. 
Aemond poured you both glasses of red wine and you thanked him as he handed you yours. 
“Are you not going to eat?” you asked him, suddenly feeling self conscious that you were shoveling mouthfuls of stew and bread into your mouth while he merely sipped on his wine and watched you. 
“Oh I intend to. Just not right now, I had what you might call a late afternoon snack,” he said and something about his words had a chill run up your spine, despite the warmth of both the room and the soup in your belly. 
“You told me of your journey here, but tell me about yourself. I find myself fascinated by the entirety of you,” he practically purred, and you immediately forgot your apprehension at his previous words. 
“I feel the same way about you,” you replied breathily. 
He smiled, a full glorious smile that made you feel as if the storm had ended and the sun had come out. But there was a glint, a sharpness, and with a start you realized his canine teeth were elongated. 
He must have seen the fear in your eyes as he reached over and grasped your hand gently. You felt that on fire feeling in your skin once again, but also felt all the fear wash out of your body. 
“Tell me about you,” he requested again, voice soft and low, a tone that caused you to wonder if that was how he spoke to his lovers late at night. 
You were filled with compliance, with a desire to please him, and so you did as you were asked, and told him everything about yourself. You told him of your childhood, your parents, your likes and interests, your dreams for a better life. 
He watched you with rapt attention, murmuring questions to prompt you to further share with him about yourself. And, oh gods, when he looked at you that way, his sapphire gaze so intense, you wanted to share yourself completely. 
“What had you so desperately searching for a new life?” he finally asked. 
So you explained, shamefully, how you laid with a man and became the village whore for merely choosing your own pleasure over mediocrity for once in your life. 
You looked down at your empty bowl, toying with the spoon, while you waited for his reaction, for his disgust and dismissal of you. 
Long cold fingers gently grasped your chin and lifted your head up to meet his gaze. 
You were enraptured by his undivided attention. 
“There’s no need to listen to the opinions of small minded individuals. Pleasure is nothing to feel guilty about. Especially when there are so, so many pleasures in life to discover,” he said and the soft lilt of his voice along with the dark tone made your toes curl. 
You wanted to experience unknown pleasures, you wanted him to teach you, to explore with you. 
You bit your lip, nodding slightly in agreement, and his hand slid up from your chin to curl around your jaw. His thumb stroked the apple of your cheek and you shivered. 
He pulled your bottom lip from between your teeth and you waited, nearly shaking with anticipation, for him to press his lips against your own, to replace the pressure with some of his own, and he smirked as if he knew what you were thinking, but pulled back. 
He sat back in his chair, far enough from you that you no longer felt intoxicated by his scent and presence, and you let out a soft breath of disappointment. 
Amusement and desire both seemed to dance in his gaze. You took a sip of wine, looking away from him to clear your head, and took a breath to steady yourself. 
“Will you tell me about yourself as well, sire?” you asked. 
“Aemond,” he corrected. “Please call me Aemond, sweet one.” 
“Aemond, I’d love to hear about you,” you requested once more. 
It seemed he had the same response to hearing his name drip from your lips as you had when he said yours, for his eyelid fluttered closed and his hand clenched into a fist, but the next breath he had composed himself once more and nodded. 
“My life… it feels as if it has been an eternity. A lonely one at that,” he said and this time you reached over and took his hand, holding it in support. 
“I was treated as if I were unwanted from the moment I was born, my eye taken hatefully when I was merely a boy, and then as a man I was deemed a monster. I was driven out of my home, my family did naught to protect me, and it took me far too long to find a place to call my own. Still, others that encounter me call me a monster and I find myself alone most of the time,” he explained and your heart hurt for him. 
“Why do others call you a monster? Your gemstone eye?” you asked as you leaned closer to him once again. 
This time you leaned in and placed your hand on his face, tracing the length of his scar with your thumb as you gently held his cheek. 
“Hmmm,” he hummed in a noncommittal sort of agreement. 
“I think it’s beautiful,” you said, your voice so soft it was practically a whisper. 
It was evident he heard you as he practically nuzzled his face into your hand. He gripped your wrist and ran his nose from the palm of your hand to the inside of your wrist, breathing in deeply. 
His actions, though gentle and loving, caused an inexplicable feeling of fear to drip down your spine, particularly when his lips pressed against your skin. You’d never realized what a vulnerable place in the body the wrist was, a bundle of veins, until Aemond pressed his perfectly curved lips against it. 
But as soon as it came, the fear was gone as Aemond looked up at you and you met his gaze once more. 
You reached out and pushed his silver hair out of his face where it had fallen and tucked it behind his ear. 
His long gorgeous hair was so soft you yearned to run your fingers through it and learn of his response, learn of the noises he would make when in pleasure. 
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, appearing as entranced by you as you were by him. 
You could do nothing to hide the way his words flustered you, as the weight of his attention had you pinned down and unable to move. 
He caught your hand and held it in place against his hair. 
As he leaned closer to you, his movements were slow and deliberate, like a predator trying not to spook his prey. 
Your heart began to sprint and you were certain you would never be able to slow it again. 
His sharp nose brushed against yours, and the anticipation was so strong you forgot how to breathe. 
Aemond hummed softly before he finally, finally pressed his lips to yours. 
As his lips moved against yours you felt inherently changed, different. It felt as if a shadowed hand with sharp talons dripping with blood had reached through your chest and gripped your heart and claimed it. 
You were his, his, and you were prepared to swear to him your utter devotion, your life. You didn’t quite understand what you were experiencing, but you didn’t care as he deepened the kiss. As he claimed your mouth you gasped, letting out a small whimper. This gave him the in he needed to slide his tongue against yours. 
You shuddered, gripping his hair tighter as he lifted you with an ease that should not be possible and sat you atop his lap. 
Your dress prevented you from straddling him like you wished, but you could not complain as he gripped your waist tightly. You ran your hands from his face and his hair to his shoulders, down to his arms, gripping him tightly and kissing him deeply, with everything you had, with utter devotion. 
You let out a small yelp of surprise as your tongue explored his mouth and brushed against something entirely too sharp. 
He tore his lips from yours and met your gaze. Your chest brushed against his as it heaved while you attempted to catch your breath. 
Fangs, you recognized. Those were fangs in his mouth, made for sinking his teeth in. 
You could not discern how you felt, what you thought, for the utter fire for him burned through you. 
He traced your jaw, then the line of your neck down to your collarbone, slowly, achingly slowly as you wanted nothing more than for him to kiss you again. Then, his lips followed the same journey his fingers had just taken. You shivered, your head falling back as your eyes fluttered shut. 
“Tell me you are mine,” Aemond ordered, and his breath against the sensitive skin of your neck made you shiver. 
“I’m yours,” you replied breathily and you could feel his smile against your throat. 
“Tell me you want me,” he ordered. 
“I want you,” you whined, and his grip on you tightened nearly to the point of pain, but you could not focus on that. No, not when you felt those fangs graze against that most sensitive spot on your neck. 
The night is dark and full of terrors, the words rang through your head once more and your breath stopped as you realized you had fallen into this beautiful monster’s trap. Fear shot down your spine and made your body tense and freeze. 
“Hmm,” he hummed in reassurance as he pressed a kiss against your vulnerability. 
Your body responded immediately, you relaxed completely, becoming nearly ragdoll like in his arms. He lifted you, holding you as he stood, and walked into the next room, a sitting room of sorts, and laid you on a chaise. 
“Aemond,” you breathed out. 
He kneeled next to where you laid. 
“I care for you,” he said as he brushed a hand across your cheek, “I don’t wish to compel you.” 
He kissed you once more. At the feeling of his lips against yours, you were reborn. You had control over your body once again and you yanked him atop of you, deepening the kiss. 
He groaned into your mouth, and pulled back slightly, causing you to whine in protest. 
“You truly want me?” he asked, his tone sounding surprised. 
Your survival instinct had long since gone quiet as a result of you continuously ignoring its protests. 
“Yes,” you said and pulled his lips to yours again. 
“Perhaps we can make a deal then,” he said, trailing his lips down once more to his favorite spot on your neck, where your veins were most vulnerable.
“If you give me what I want, I will reward you with everything you desire and more,” he said and you again felt the sharpness of those fangs. 
You let out a shuddering breath. 
“Yes,” you agreed, all logic disappearing as desire overtook your very being. 
And you knew. You knew and he knew, that his compelling magic was gone, the desire you felt for him this entire time was real and true, not due to compelling whatsoever. There was something more, something deeper at play here, and your choice was your own as you chose him, completely. 
And with that, he groaned lowly and sank his fangs into your neck.  
Sharp indescribable pain is what you expected but instead it was like a dull buzz of pain nearly overwhelmed by pleasure. 
He ran his hands down your body, ensuring he paid special attention to your breasts and you gasped his name. 
Aemond’s hand slipped up your dress, inching up your burning hot skin, and finding the wetness between your legs that awaited him. 
You whimpered softly as he brushed your panties aside and finally touched you where you wanted him the most. 
His nimble fingers spread your slick and quickly found a rhythm circling your bundle of nerves as he continued to drink your blood. 
As the heat inside you built, he pulled his teeth from your neck and slowly dragged his tongue up your neck, licking up every last drop of blood from your skin. His fingers moved in perfect time with his tongue, and with no notice your release hit you, overwhelming you completely as you moaned loud enough to echo through the room. 
“Absolutely exquisite,” he said as he pulled back from your neck and looked deep into your eyes. 
He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, and you stared at him as your chest heaved, absolutely entranced. He then replaced his thumb with his bloodsoaked lips. 
He groaned as you kissed him eagerly, your blood in his mouth not causing any hesitation whatsoever. 
“I need you,” you gasped. 
“I have needed you for an eternity,” he replied as he began untying the corset of your dress. 
You moaned as the cool air hit your skin and he slowly and gently removed the beautiful dress from your body, leaving you completely bare. You turned and looked at the pile of sapphire velvet on the floor. 
He gripped your chin, turning your head to look at him once more. You helped him to remove his shirt, and then watched eagerly as he unbuckled his belt, beginning to make himself just as bare as you. 
“I must admit something to you,” he said and your mouth ran dry as the hard length of him sprung free. 
“Yes,” you asked breathlessly as you reached and wrapped your hand around him. 
He let out a sound low in his throat, something similar to a growl, as you began to move your hand up and down his length. 
“It is not happenstance that you found yourself in my home. I must confess that I have been watching you for a while now. I needed you. I needed to taste you, to make you mine. I influenced your journey here, guided you, so I could finally show you my devotion,” he said. 
“Then make me yours, completely,” you pleaded and guided his length to line up with your wet heat. 
With a groan he nodded his head and pushed himself inside you. 
He filled you, inch by glorious inch, and you could do nothing but gasp for air as you felt fuller than you’d ever felt in your life. 
You reveled in the press of your naked chest against his, as you pulled him close enough that you couldn’t tell where your body ended and where his began.
You were one with the vampire atop you, and you’d never felt more intense pleasure in your life. 
When he was certain you were ready, he kissed you, surprisingly tenderly, before he pulled out nearly all the way, and pushed back inside you, sinking to the hilt. 
His tempo was slow and deep, as he gazed deep in your eyes and told you how beautiful he found you. 
“Perfect, so perfect,” he praised as you mewled for him when he tilted your hips up and hit a spot of pleasure inside you that had never been found before. 
Aemond continued his pace, holding you tight, as your nails dug into his back. 
“Come for me, darling, I can feel how close you are,” he purred in your ear. 
He slipped his hand between your bodies and found your bundle of nerves once more, stroking it and you nearly screamed as your release wracked through you. 
You felt you had reached heaven, somehow, in the arms of your ethereally beautiful monster lover and it took you several moments to come back down. 
So lost in your pleasure, you had not even felt a sting of pain as he sunk his teeth into your wrist. He gulped your blood, moaning in pleasure, as he continued to pump himself in and out of your tight wet heat, chasing his own release. 
You tangled your other hand in his hair, and gripped tighter around his cock, urging him on, encouraging both his release and for him to continue to drink from you. 
He groaned as his release found him, sinking deep inside you, bringing ecstasy to you both. 
You shuddered a breath as his movements slowed and stopped. He pulled his teeth from your wrist, and murmured your name, like a praise- like a prayer, with utter devotion. 
As he looked at you, you reached up and wiped your blood from where it had dripped down his chin. 
He brought your wrist to his lips once more, and before you could protest that you were beginning to feel lightheaded, he surprised you by licking the wound clean instead of sinking his teeth back in, just as he had with the wound on your neck. 
You watched in fascination, as his saliva magically closed your wound, leaving only a small scar. 
He looked up and grinned at you, your blood coating his teeth, and you whimpered and pulled him into another kiss. 
He kissed you languidly, tongue moving against yours, as if he had all of eternity with you. 
“I have never tasted anything so divine,” he purred against your lips. 
“I have never felt so wonderful in all my life,” you said back as you pulled back enough to look upon him once again. 
“I can feel it. Can you feel it? You are to be my eternity, my everlasting, my one true mate. I give you my utter devotion. You said you wanted to start a new life. Start it with me. Let me turn you and we can be together forever. Stay with me,” he pleaded. 
And so you did. 
Yes, this night was dark and full of terrors, but this terror had wrapped himself around you, sunk deep inside you, and devoted his entire being to you, offering you pleasure and love unlike any you’d ever experienced before. 
And so, later, when Aemond fed you his blood and turned you and you opened your eyes into this new life, becoming a terror yourself, you grinned and kissed your vampire mate, prepared to spend forever by his side. 
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calumfmu · 12 days
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your fics are godly. you wouldnt know you were in a slump!
could i request eddie and steve fighting over reader? like eddie shows up at family video and steve is stood between readers legs feeding her red vines and shes playing with his hair and eddie is like 😤 game on steven.
Hiii babe <3 thank you so muchhh. like genuinely, I could cry rn. Im really fucking trying lmfaoo so I hope this is good :)))) Steddie x Reader (who is playing them both) cw: swearing, allusions to sex, 2.1k+ words (I did it y'all + working on edits are next bc I'm shit at them, I can only do collage)
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“Just call me for what time to pick you up, okay?” Eddie’s voice was soft when he spoke to you, tires screeching to a halt as the van pulled up in front of the Family Video. You were shy behind the smile that nursed your lips, trying not to fully beam at him as he ran out to open your passenger door.
“Yeah, yeah, I know the deal, Munson,” you teased, hoping out with your bag thrown over your shoulder.
He stood up close in your space, nearly chest to chest with you as he reached up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. He smelled like leather, the familiar scent filling your senses like a heated towel.
“Just looking out for my favorite girl,” he whispered, pecking your nose as you rolled your eyes playfully at his comment. You weren’t his girlfriend, but he loved to tease you when it came to claiming you as his. You couldn’t even pretend to be upset at it, loving the way he called you his and the pet names that followed.
“Is that what I am now?”
“My one and only.”
The look on his face warmed you up, his hair blowing in the wind as he leaned down to press his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, lips touching with the briefest sensation of want— remnants of your time spent in the hazy morning in his trailer, seated on his lap, pushing him down into the mattress.
You heard a throat clear to your right, only for you to look up and see Robin standing with her arms crossed, leaning against the glass door of the video store.
“You’re gonna be late,” she grumbled, shaking her head at the two of you intertwined. Blushing, you pulled away from him, his hand outstretching to hold yours for as long as possible while you took a few steps away. He reluctantly let go, your arms being stretched as the distance increased to be too much for contact.
“Call me!”
You nodded at him, waving him goodbye as he leaned against the van door. Meeting Robin’s side, you bumped your shoulder with hers.
“You know, you’re going to have to make a decision some day,” she said, holding the door open for you as you walked in. Your heart kicked up at her words, clearing your throat to ease away the discomfort.
“What do you mean?”
You fawned innocence, eyes batting up at her as she gave you that all knowing look. The two of you made it a few steps into the business, your eyes immediately searching for that chestnut colored mane, puppy dog eyes lingering amongst the aisles.
“You know what I mean,” she said, leaning into your ear so her words wouldn’t carry far. “They’re not dumb, you know.”
“Still don’t know what you’re talking about.” You called out behind you as you made your way around the counter. She grumbled something in reply, it being lost as you as your mind was set on one thing.
You gave her a cheery smile, walking to the back office to place your things down. Immediately upon entering, there he was— Steve, your other situation, if you could call it that. The serious look on his face immediately flipped around upon laying his eyes on you, teeth bared in a smile with his eyebrows raised.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this, no. You didn’t mean to be playing both sides of the fence, Eddie on one hand, reserved for late nights and early mornings, Steve on the other, day time charades and afternoon picnics.
It just happened. Maybe somewhere along the mysterious shit that always happened around Hawkins where you got to spend time with reformed king more or the effort to clear the Munson boys name, you happened to fall for the two of them. At the same time. It wasn’t your fault, okay? They were both too pretty to make a decision, too good to you in their different ways, too much to be able to put down.
“Hi, pretty girl,” he muttered before crossing the floor to meet you in an embrace. You felt safe in his arms too, chest broad in muscle, cinnamon scent encompassing you. It was different than Eddie’s, yet all the same. “You’re late.”
You looked up at him, chin at his chest as his eyes stared down at you. Sleep wore on his face, big eyes drooping slightly, exhaustion from the early morning showing.
“Only 5 minutes,” You pouted, bottom lip jutting out. “You’d cover for me right? My ride was a little hectic.”
“You know I always do.”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you out of the break room to meet Robin on the floor. She was labeling VHS cases, tongue poked out at the corner of her mouth as she focused on getting the stickers straight. Following his lead, he settled next to her, dividing the pile while you took a seat on the countertop, opening a box of candy that had just been shipped in.
Your legs swung in front of you, hitting the backboard of the counter you sat on. While the three of you focused on morning duties, your foot hit Steve’s thigh every now and then, smirk on your lips as you knew he would get “frustrated” eventually and “snap”.
“Babe,” he warned, pushing your foot with his hip as he threw a tape down on the pile. You laughed under your breath, grabbing packs of Red Vines out of the case.
“What am I doing?” You cocked your head to the side, not yet wanting to look up at the look he was giving you. You tapped him again, toe pointed as his hand reached down to grab your ankle.
“Playing dumb is really your strong suit,” Robin commented, raising her eyebrows as she looked at the two of you. You shot her a look, urging her to not continue as Steve rose an eyebrow.
“Rob, shut up,” you laughed, throwing the balled up packing tape you had accumulated from the boxes at her. She dodged it as she laughed, throwing her own scraps from labels towards you.
Steve’s grip on your ankle tightened slightly, he slid in between your parted legs, hips pressed flush against the counter as you tried to maneuver out of the grip, laughing as he locked you in.
“Playing dumb? You’re the smartest girl I know,” he teased, helping you unpack the candy while still seated between your legs. Robin made a face at you from behind him, immediately going serious when Steve turned around to give her a look. She loved teasing you whenever she had the opportunity, all jokes in good fun, no matter what she thought of the predicament you found yourself in.
“That’s so rude, Harrington,” she said, rolling her eyes as she took a stack of tapes to re-shelf. You watched as she walked away, getting lost in an aisle closer to the door.
He ignored her, placing his hands on your thighs as he abandoned the candy. You held a box of licorice in your hands, toying at the corners as you looked at him. The look on his face grew more serious, eyes squinted as he pursed his lips.
“I wanna know though… what are you so good with playing dumb at that Robin had to be oh, so mysterious about?”
Your heart lurched at his question, eyes darting down to look at the blue box in hand. The corner ripped underneath your hand, plastic being pulled back as you found sudden interest in it.
“Nothing.”
He hummed at the short answer, fingers coming up to pull your chin to focus on him. You met his eyes, chocolate brown wide as you melted at the look.
“Is that so?” Steve’s voice was low, a deep grumble coming from his chest. His fingers found your hips, pulling him into you quickly that made you yelp, candy flying everywhere as your hands flew up to grab at him.
“Steve! Look what you made me do!”
“You still didn’t answer me.”
You groaned, looking at the mess of red candy that laid around you. He picked up a stick of licorice, taking a bite out of it before feeding it to you. You smiled around it, hand coming up to rest at his chest as you went to push him away from you. His scent of cinnamon hit you, preventing you from the motion, instead curling your fingers into the fabric of his striped shirt, sat under his vest. You dragged it up the length of his body, settling into his hair as you curled a piece of it between your fingertips.
“Hey, uhhh… you guys…” Robin’s voice was wary as she spoke across the floor, yet the two of you didn’t register it, focused on each other.
She hurriedly made her ways towards you guys, foot steps coming closer as her gaze was focused on something outside the doors. You took another bite of the candy from Steve’s fingers, looking up at him through your lashes as you made a show of it.
The bell above the door rang, signaling entry as the two of you remained distracted.
“You forgot your jacket in my…”
Your heart stopped. You recognized that voice. Eddie stood there, your jean jacket in his hand as he faltered his steps, feet away from the counter. The look on his face dropped, eyes glaring at Steve who stood in front of you. Pushing him away, you hoped off the counter.
Robin stood frazzled behind him, eyes wide as her eyes glinted between the three of you. Her mouth was dropped open, cringing at the awkward situation it was.
“Steve.”
The tone of the name had you cringing, realizing that Eddie saw you at no fault, this was up to Steve. He slowly made his way up to the counter, jean jacket being placed on the flat surface as he stared down the younger man.
“Than—” You cleared your throat. “Thank you, Eddie.”
He hummed in response, not breaking the staring contest that he found himself in. Steve shifted uncomfortably, quickly swallowing down the piece of candy he had.
“You had her jacket in your van?” The realization of the situation began to dawn on him, voice dripping with the same tone Eddie had. It was all directed towards the long haired man, leaving you out of it.
“Mhmm,” Eddie said, crossing his arms over his chest. You felt small between them, both boys beginning to size each other up. “She must have left it last night when she came over.”
You shot a look at Robin, begging her to help you as you didn’t know what to do. She shrugged at you, mouthing ‘told you so’ before turning on her heel, scurrying away from the budding altercation. Sighing, you placed a hand at your forehead, the temperature in the building rising suddenly.
“Came over?” Steve asked, stepping up to the counter, closer to him. You were grateful for the separation between them, not daring to think about what would’ve happened if it wasn’t there.
“That’s right, pretty boy.” You don’t think you had heard Eddie ever speak to Steve in that manner, them becoming ‘friends’ in the most recent months.
“That must have been after our trip in my car.” Steve’s eyebrow shot up. “To Skull Rock.” His palm pressed on the counter, leaning over in his direction. “After sunset.”
You could’ve passed out right then and there if it weren’t for the way Eddie suddenly smiled at him, teeth bared in a grin you had only seen reserved for you. He walked even closer to the counter, face inches away from Steve’s at this point.
“Touché, Harrington.”
With a quirk of his eyebrow, he turned away, walking towards the door. His hand shot out to push it open, lingering in the frame before turning to face you.
“See you later, sweetheart. Pick you up at 6, normal time?”
The subtle nod of your head had him smiling even wider, the chains around his neck clinking together as he tilted his head in response.
“She’s got plans with me at 7, Munson!” Steve’s voice shouted out to him as he exited, a loud ‘HA!’ left behind in his wake. The counter swung shut, bell ringing as the shutters on the door rattled.
You just stood there for a minute, wondering what the fuck you got yourself into. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, most definitely wasn’t supposed to be discovered like this. You closed your eyes, leaning onto the counter with your elbows, head rested in your hands.
“You are so fucked,” Robin laughed, returning to your side. You just nodded in response, palms digging into your eye sockets. Stars floated behind your closed lids, dancing in the darkness behind them.
“Shut it, Robin.”
Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! Part two <3
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rip-quizilla · 8 months
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Meet the Teacher
Pairing: Modern!Older!Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Teacher!Reader
Summary: Eddie meets his daughter's new kindergarten teacher and he's pretty sure you're his wet dream come to life. AKA: single dad!Eddie fantasizes about you while he jerks off.
Word Count: 2.4K
Tags: 🔥SMUT, modern au, masturbation, implied road head, pervert!Eddie, switch!Eddie (sort of)
A/N: She's a short queen, standing just over 2k words tall- barely more than a blurb. Quick 'lil read, but I hope y'all enjoy her ❤️
🍎🍎🍎
Eddie needed to calm down.
This wasn’t the time for him to be straining against his jeans, getting hot and bothered at seven o’clock on a Tuesday evening. Wasn’t the place. Hell, given his history with school in general, he should feel uncomfortable as fuck in all sorts of other ways, sitting in a classroom for the first time in over a decade. The last time Eddie remembered being happy to be in a classroom was Miss Adami’s fifth grade class. She had always been nice to him. 
Eddie wouldn’t mind if this teacher were nice to him…
Fucking. Stop. You horny bastard. Eddie chided himself mentally, Get it together, Munson.
He crossed his leg over the opposite knee, willing his half-mast dick to soften the fuck down, and fast. Eddie did his best not to draw attention to himself as he readjusted his position in the too-small plastic chair, scooted about a foot away from the hilariously low table he was currently sitting by. 
He focused his gaze on Raven, his daughter, who sat criss-cross-applesauce on the rainbow-colored rug at the front of the classroom. Her big brown eyes were wide, rapt as she watched her new teacher leading her and all the other five-year-olds in a song that required various hand motions and claps and whatnot. Eddie couldn’t help but grin fondly at the little tyke as she listened intently to every direction, determined to do every little thing her teacher asked of her without a single flaw. 
The only problem was that no matter how cute his daughter was, no matter how much Eddie tried desperately to control himself, he couldn’t tear his eyes off you.
He knew schools were loosening up on rules and regulations and all that- more and more school districts now allowed teachers to dye their hair unconventional colors, show tattoos, have more than just their earlobes pierced, blah blah blah…
But he hadn’t expected his daughter���s kindergarten teacher to look this fucking hot. 
You were something straight out of his fantasies. Like some hybrid rockabilly/alt girl/teacher hybrid, with hair that shone such a vibrant red that he knew there was no way it was natural. Fine by him. Tattooed sleeves of black-inked flowers crawled up your arms, showcasing some of the most beautiful linework and shading that Eddie had ever seen. His eyes followed the vines without his permission, taking account of the foxglove at your right forearm, the hyacinth on your left elbow, the cluster of lilacs that peeked out of the capsleeve on your shoulder. 
And oh, god, he couldn’t look at the snake that coiled around your knee. He hadn’t seen it at first, but when you’d sat down in your chair at the front of the classroom, your dress had crept up your lower thigh, allowing the snake to slither into view, and fuck, Eddie wasn’t sure he’d be able to pay much attention to whatever information you’d be delivering that he probably needed to know. All he could hope was that you’d been considerate enough to print out any necessary information so he could read it later.
Tearing his eyes from his daughter’s teacher (christ, Eddie really was a horny bastard, this was in no way okay), he pulled his phone from his pocket in an effort to provide himself a distraction.
“Ahem.”
Eddie’s gaze shot up from his phone screen, realizing shamefully that your eyes were trained on him, catching him red-handed in the middle of using his phone in class (which was funny, since he technically wasn’t ‘in class’, just in a classroom). Still, that didn’t seem to make a difference to you as you raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him to do anything other than slip that phone back into his pocket. Trapped under your authoritative glare, Eddie gulped, cock twitching slightly as he slid the phone back into the pocket of his charcoal jeans. 
The moment your eyes left him, you were back to wide smiles that crinkled around your lashes, clapping along with the kids who already adored you, even though you technically wouldn’t be their teacher until next week. It didn’t matter- they were infatuated with you, a sentiment that Eddie could understand completely. 
When Eddie stepped up to shake your hand on the way out of your classroom that evening, his heart had leapt at the look that you gave him- one eyebrow raised, the corner of your lipsticked mouth clipping up in a wry, knowing smile. 
Just like you’d done for every child before they left your classroom that day, you first crouched down until your eyes were level with Raven’s and asked if she would prefer a hug or a high five. Unsurprisingly, the little firecracker had responded by simply throwing her arms around your neck, clinging to you with the reckless abandon and generous trust that only a five-year-old could give so freely. When you stood to shake Eddie’s hand, he had to bite back a what, I don’t get to pick a hug or high five? 
“Raven,” you said, voice still lifted with excitable inflection that would make any little ankle biter’s ears perk up like a doberman’s. “I can already tell you’re an excellent student. Do you think you can help your daddy remember all of the things we talked about today?” 
Raven’s eyes lit up, and her wispy curls shook as she nodded her head in agreement. “Uh-huh!”
Eddie gave his daughter’s hand a squeeze and nudged her lightly with his knee. “Yes ma’am.” he prompted, and it was echoed in her tiny, polite voice upon hearing his reminder. 
Your eyes flicked up to his, approval in your gaze dancing with the teasing sarcasm in your smile. “Excellent manners.” you praised, and Eddie wasn’t sure if you were talking to him or to his daughter. Either was fine with him. 
You took his hand in yours, shook it all-businesslike with a polite “Nice to meet you, Mr. Munson.” and before Eddie knew it, he was out the door. However, his mind was still on the cherry-red shine of your hair. The crimson varnish on your nails. The sweetheart neckline of your fifties-style dress, and how when you crouched down and he stayed standing he could see the top of a black lace bra underneath. 
Good god, he was a pervert.
It was all he could think about on the way home, all he could think about while Raven watched one of those Minions movies for the twentieth time before bed. All he could think about after he’d tucked her in, kissed her goodnight, and retreated to his own bedroom to think about you while he touched himself. 
Eddie was old-fashioned- he didn’t need porn. His imagination was a talented machine, fine-tuned after decades of dreaming up campaigns and writing songs. When he laid down on his mattress, it didn’t take long for him to conjure up the image of you there with him, climbing onto his lap, hiking up that black and white polka dotted dress until he could see the tattoos that he imagined must decorate your thighs. 
He spat into his hand, sighing as he felt the slick coat his cock with each pass of his hand. He applied the most pressure with his thumb, flicking it over that ridge beneath the head that felt fucking phenomenal when touched the way he liked. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine your red-painted nails slipping over the head of his cock, tongue poking out to kitten-lick the very tip while you looked at him with big, bright, forbidden eyes.
Your crimson-stained lips, shiny with spit, would envelop him warmly, causing him to groan ecstatically as his hips bucked into your mouth. His cock, fully hard and throbbing, would slide down your throat as you shoved your lips- no, as Eddie shoved your lips further and further down his shaft until your nose smushed against the hair at his groin. His hand would span across the back of your head, pushing you down and holding you there until you gagged around him, and God, that would feel so good, your desperate swallowing around his throbbing dick and the noises you would make- what noises would you make?
He imagined your voice as he fisted his cock, wove melodies of moans in his head that he could pull from your mouth. Would they be deep? Guttural? Or would you be the kind of moaner that whimpered at the highest register you had? Would you be loud, so loud that the neighbors would hear- either that, or he would just have to gag you. Slap his hand over your mouth. Stuff your panties between your lips (which he was sure were black lace to match your bra). Or would you be more assertive, quick to put Eddie in his place like you did today when he’d taken out his phone?
Which did he want to call you: baby? Or ma’am? He imagined trying both out on you while he was balls-deep in your wet little pussy, and thought about which word would make you squeeze him tighter. 
God, Eddie was so fucking horny. It had been so long since he’d cum inside anything that wasn’t his own hand. He thought about whether or not it would be inappropriate to text the cell phone number you’d provided in the email you’d sent out to the parents/guardians of your class. What would he even say? 
Evening, miss. Was nice to meet you tonight. Feel like grabbing a drink? 
Could he? Would that be appropriate?
He got harder just thinking about it. It definitely would not be appropriate… but what if you said yes anyway? What if you actually agreed to see him? What if you both hit it off? What if you actually did come back to his place with him, let him slide his hand around your waist, hold you close enough to smell the perfume on your neck? Let him see that lacy bra in all its glory?
The fantasy of an evening played out in his mind’s eye: Eddie would pick you up at your house, and you would answer the door wearing a cherry-colored dress that hugged your curves, painting you red to match your hair, your nails, and the angry shade of his cock. In the car, his fingers would brush the skin of your thigh, tracing the inked designs that lived there as you answered his questions about what you liked, what you didn’t, what you wanted or hated. Your hand would snake over to his thigh in turn, trace the seam of his black jeans- the ones that hugged his legs in all the right places- and the sensation would get him hard on the spot, right there in his car. 
Would you be scared away by that? By how quickly you turned him on, drove him nuts. Or would it turn you on too, making you sigh, a rumble through your chest as he felt your delicate, red-tipped fingers brush his hardening cock through the tightening fabric. Would you unbuckle his belt? Unbutton his pants? Unzip his fly and free his throbbing dick into the cool night air, only to shock him with the warm, wet feel of your mouth while he continued to cruise down a Hawkins country road?
Eddie groaned, feeling his release creep up on him. Closer and closer he drew, and with every stroke of his cock he succumbed further into his hazy vision of you. Now you were back in bed with him, naked and bouncing on his cock. You were rubbing your clit as you moved your hot, wet pussy up and down his shaft, leaving milky white wet in your wake. In his fantasy, you were arching your back, moaning as he thrust himself into you at a pace that hit places within you that made you cry out his name. 
His movements were getting faster, his grip growing tighter as it slipped over his cock at a speed that he knew would result in a sore arm tomorrow but he didn’t care- his release would be worth it. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, imagining your knees quivering as you made yourself cum on his cock. Imagining your body convulsing under waves of pleasure, your thighs threatening to close against his strong hands holding them open. You would moan and mewl and chant his name, and conjuring up the sound of his name as it left your lips was what did it for Eddie.
Heavy, white ropes of cum dripped over his knuckles, painting his stomach and sliding over the shining crevices of his rings. He stroked himself slower, coming down from his release with a shuddering sigh. 
It only took a few moments for the fact that he just jacked off to the thought of his daughter’s kindergarten teacher to sink in. 
Eddie didn’t feel… creepy… but he could tell there was a definite line he’d crossed somewhere. However, he was tired, and decided that he would deal with the moral implications tomorrow. 
***
The next time Eddie saw you, you were working the car line after school. He’d taken note of the Metallica shirt you were wearing, and rolled down his window, turning up the volume on his stereo. He watched as your smile broadened when you recognized For Whom the Bell Tolls. 
“Here for Raven?” You’d asked with a lopsided grin. Your voice was just as sweet as he remembered.
“Yep,” he’d replied, nodding to your t-shirt, “but if you want to keep her for a few more hours, I think I just decided I trust you with my kid even more than I did before.”
You grinned, showing all of your teeth this time. “She’s a cool kid.” you paused, as if debating whether to finish your sentence. “...I can see where she gets it.”
Eddie beamed, his smirk reaching up to the crow’s feet at his eyes. “You think I’m cool?”
You matched him, smirk for smirk, going as far as to lean your forearms onto the passenger side window sill. “You carry yourself like someone who knows they’re cool.”
Eddie stared at you for a moment, debating for an entirely too-short length of time whether or not he should shoot his shot. 
Fuck it. 
“Cool enough to buy you a drink sometime?”
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